Rho
by Little Joori
Summary: The Mark of Shame, a permanent punishment, condemning criminals and innocents alike to a grueling existence accompanying their status as a "second-class citizen". And it hurts. Shaia 'Tenzo hurts, badly. She's attending her first formal dinner as a "shamed one". The experience is humiliating and depraving, at least until someone bides up the courage to ease her pain.


"Rho"

ALL ARE WELCOME TO RIZU 'MONADEE'S CELEBRATORY DINNER

RESTRICTIONS

1: Shamed ones may not speak

2: Shamed ones must keep their head low

3: Shamed ones may not eat until AFTER the feast

4: Shamed ones may not have the privilege of eye contact

FAILURE TO COMPLY WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE REMOVAL

A young Sangheili nurse, Shaia 'Tenzo, is sitting shyly at a regal dinner party, celebrating a meritorious Zealot of whom had killed a Demon. The dining hall is bouncing with exchanges of war poems and hearty laughter. The fragrance of the finest meats are dancing about the table. Colo, bentaj, even thinly sliced nakan sauté! The passing of napkins and condiments between fingers and palms entertains her low, behaved eyes. The smacking and munching of happy mouths shoves a sting in her hollow stomach.

She stares at her empty plate. The Mark of Shame sizzles and snaps on her chest, the pain, still settling deep into her bone.

Everyone is in lustrous, polished ceremonial armor, glimmering under the dim light. Metallic reds and blues dazzle and shine upon the eyes of warriors. The chairs, the walls, even the ceiling is...

...not the deep violet they typically would be. They're blood red. A new tradition, to celebrate the assassinations of significant Humans.

The body sitting next to her holds a succulent piece of colo over her plate, as if to mock her.

He places the meat on her dish. She fights her hardest to take her eyes off of the morsel, and looks to the stranger's silver chestplate.

_ Silver?_

Dense realization kicks in.

_A Shipmaster…_

She wouldn't dare look him in the eye, if she had the audacity, she'd be thrown out onto her rump.

"Go on."

She's blindsided. What she had thought to be an attempt to mock her, was a seemingly, _suspiciously_ true act of kindness.

_ Is it an elaborate trick?_

No

He gave her _permission._

She hesitantly, yet tightly grasps the meat in her mandibles, daring to allow the juices to drip onto her favorite gown. She faces the chestplate once more, silently begging for the sweet attention that accompanies permission.

"Yes, you may."

The words struck a chord in her hearts.

This was real.

This was happening.

She happily absorbs the luxurious flavors, reminiscing her wealthy past. Nodding her head in gratitude, Shaia returns to her humble plate. The mouth sitting across from her is flaring. Furious, yet silent.

She could only imagine the horror in his eyes.

The Shipmaster is as audacious as he is powerful, feeding a shamed one at the table. A stunt like that takes a lot of courage.

_Or ignorance…_

After some contemplation, she faces the Shipmaster and tugs down on her collar, revealing her mark. She quickly turns back and shuts her eyes, expecting to be sharply smacked and sent home.

His hand returns and Shaia shrivels up. She prays to the Forerunners for a second chance. She doesn't want to be struck at the table. She doesn't want to endure the humiliation. She doesn't want to leave this beautiful place.

_Gods have mercy on my soul! Please! Allow me the chance to stay!_

He places a steaming circle of pressed grain onto her plate, and his hands retreat to grasp eating instruments.

Shaia is in awe. He had no intention to cuff her upside the head. He's knowingly feeding a lowly, shameful creature.

The Shipmaster scoops up various delicacies from his platter and places them on the tortilla. He arranges the little assortment into delicate patterns, carefully crafting a masterpiece, as if it were for his own kin.

"Vile..."

The angry maw stands from its seat, and takes its leave. Other upstanding warriors begin to follow, distancing themselves from the unsightly act.

"Please, enjoy it."

The sounds caress her inside and out, making her body twitch and her hearts tingle.

He wasn't permitting her to enjoy it.

He was _asking_ her.

She wastes no time, and gratuitously consumes the decadent array of enchanting senses.

The laughing and squalling is shut to a halt. Every chair shifts out from under the table and more and more warriors retreat from the revolting sight. A tense, infuriated posture approaches Shaia. He spits at her plate, and continues on his way.

The gentle hand returns, and takes her plate. He replaces it with his own.

The room whimpers with emptiness and silence. Now, only Shaia and the Shipmaster populate the dark abyss.

_ Why would a Shipmaster waste his time with me? _

He raises himself from his seat and faces Shaia. His full size and posture reveals exactly how tall and robust a Shipmaster could ever be. Shaia's feminine figure is dwarfed by his impressive masculinity. She lowers her head in submission and bows.

_ Not even on my knees, do I belong in his presence._

She respectfully turns to make her way to the exit. A shamed one shouldn't waste anyones time by burdening them with her presence.

"Wait!"

He places his hand on her shoulder and turns her to face him.

"I must know your name."

Consumed by another wave of astonishment, Shaia gasps. She collects herself and takes a massive risk.

"My name is Sh-Shaia, sir."

"Shaia…"

He cautiously tucks his hand under her mandibles and guides her head up, allowing her to meet his eyes.

His eyes...

Detailed emerald eyes glisten and shine through the shadows. Beautiful, hand crafted globes! Their radiance is only contained by a deep, inquisitive, passionate stare, as if he were contemplating a piece of art.

"I'm Rho."

~finito~


End file.
